


An unlikely pair

by Versix



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Two ladies dancing around each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2019-10-26 13:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17746937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Versix/pseuds/Versix
Summary: Some say that opposites attract.





	1. In a different timeline

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing a whole fic for these two -exploring what their relationship could be like, if the circumstances were to bring them together- and find myself too far gone to not write small drabbles.
> 
> I hope you enjoy these as much as I enjoy writing them

Advanced Hextech made anything that much more straightforward. The Pulsefire Agent mused over the small unit standing on the palm of her hand. Barely bigger than a ring, the device held endless years of precious information.

The past.

A past that was ultimately not her own. Ever since she had stumbled on this digital archive, Caitlyn had hesitated. But eventually, the agent had settled on visiting her story. Or what was known of it. Caitlyn breathed in and launched the download. Her pupils turned a light shade of green while the data was being processed. Silent moments passed by, before green hues gently faded back into dark blue. Caitlyn blinked slowly, her hand closing around the unit. Nowadays, technology allowed for people to download limited amount of data directly to their cerebrum. Caitlyn rose and placed the unit on the table.

“LeBlanc” was the only word written on the storage device.

* * *

Feeling the wind in her back, Caitlyn let the portal close. There was no mistaking it. She was on track. And yet her legs felt weak, barely capable of holding up her weight.

Left. Right. Left. Right.

Against her better judgement, the Pulsefire agent took her first steps in a time that was not hers. On a quest that could potentially disrupt the continuum. If that ever were to happen, then she would have to close the loophole and delete this timeline. The timeline that she was in.

Caitlyn shook her head. That would not happen. She couldn’t let it end. Not like this.

And so she set out.

* * *

“Have we met?”

The streets were crowded. People flooded past them in a blur. And all Caitlyn could do was stay frozen in place, mouth slightly ajar in awe. She was there. In front of her. Despite having carefully planned out their meeting, Caitlyn couldn’t help but just stand there. A stream of inseparable emotions struck her, forcing her to take a step backwards.

“I do not believe we have.”

The other woman observed her with incredible orange hues. She was ever so silent. And eventually, she offered a smile.

It was so different.

“My apologies. I was under the impression that we had.”

“Not at all.” Caitlyn had so much she wanted to say, so much that she had to hold back. “Jane Ferros. A pleasure.”

LeBlanc stared at the extended hand. For a moment, it looked as if she wouldn’t take it. Caitlyn lowered her arm.

“LeBlanc. The pleasure is all mine.” Caitlyn felt the warmth of her hand and was slightly taken aback.

How could she have missed something that she had never experienced for herself? Was it possible to get so emotional over another’s story? Caitlyn wondered what the “her” from this timeline was like. What she had lived and what she had done.

Squeezing the petite hand, she bowed her head. “I have heard so much about you.”

“I feel even more embarrassed to not know who I am talking to then.”

“There is nothing to know about me. I… simply wanted to meet you.”

Orange eyes narrowed. “Is that so.”

“I had to. Before I leave.”

“How far are you going?”

“Pardon me?”

The tension in the air disappeared. LeBlanc let out a chortle.

“Aren’t we rather mysterious? A bit over dramatic, but there is nothing much wrong with that.”

“You would know that better than anyone.”

“Indeed.” LeBlanc shuffled and threw her scarf over her shoulder. “You sound like you won’t be back for some time.”

“That is probably the case. I…” Caitlyn paused and smiled sheepishly. “Travel a lot. It is difficult for me to visit a same place twice.”

“Ah, but is that not the charm of being an explorer? I sometimes imagine myself as the one on the road. Sadly, I am shackled here. What a cruel fate.”

The Pulsefire agent gave an uncertain smile. Evaine was lying. Never would she let the Black Rose fall. Never would she leave LeBlanc. “A shame indeed.”

“I am a very good listener, you know.”

The Deceiver’s interest was piqued. Maybe Caitlyn should consider herself lucky that the mage was very obviously bored of her to-do list. Ferros slipped her hands in her pockets and allowed herself a question. “You seem… rather relaxed. Why? Trust does not come easily.”

Evaine LeBlanc gave a shrug, frowning for the first time since they had started their conversation. More people pushed by. LeBlanc took a step forward.

“You are familiar. You obviously know me. And I can’t help feel that I know you.”

“And you are not threatened?”

“No.” The answer was simple. Caitlyn gave a sigh of relief.

“Like I said, there is something very familiar about you. You are very much like someone I… used to know.” There was no slip up, no change in emotion. Caitlyn wondered how their story had come to an end. How LeBlanc and the Caitlyn from this timeline had parted. She pondered all the possibilities, but in the end gave up.

“Do I resemble them physically?” The Pulsefire said, going the Deceiver’s way, wanting to hear more of a story that had already ended.

“It’s your voice. Your mannerisms. If not for the very subtle differences, I would have pinned you as the same person. But I know better. I know that she is leading her own respective, if not slightly deluded, life. Never would she give up all that she has fought for to merely travel. That prospect is ridiculous. And inconceivable.”

“And is that why you trust me? Because I am much like her?”

LeBlanc shrugged and looked sideways, her eyes getting lost in the crowd. Her gaze was vague, as she wasn’t eyeing anything or anyone in particular. Maybe Caitlyn had lost her interest. She was about to open her mouth when the Deceiver gave an answer of her own.

“Yes. Call it foolishness or call it a weakness.” Her eyes turned to meet deep blue again. “I feel at ease with you. I lack the answer as to why, but I have come to the conclusion that you are here, Caitlyn.”

The Pulsefire agent took a staggered. Had she made a mistake? She was sure to have been careful while talking to the Matron. Time travel was not a matter that could be taken lightly. And more often than not -apart from ending in diagrams- the very notion of it sufficed in creating an anomaly in the timeline, as it posed many questions. It was a difficult and delicate subject.

“That is ludicrous. You said it yourself. She and I are not one in the same. We are different.”

“Yes. I am aware of what I said.” The tone turned hard. “However there are many happenings that cannot be explained or fully comprehended. And one would be foolish to delude themselves into thinking that there is a logical answer to everything.”

Caitlyn said nothing. Orange eyes softened and LeBlanc resumed her pleasantries.

“But that is a long and tedious subject. One that is not meant for goodbyes.”

The Pulsefire agent looked up.

“You have come to say goodbye, have you not?”

“Was it that obvious?”

“No. I simply know you more than you would like to admit.” LeBlanc smirked and closed the gap between them, popping Caitlyn’s privacy bubble. Not that the latter minded. Somehow, she wasn’t bothered by the mage’s invasion. It was something she felt like she had got used to a long time ago.

Offering a genuine smile, she held up her hand one last time. LeBlanc looked at it and took it, while adding: “Are you satisfied with our meeting?”

Caitlyn laughed and gave the petite hand a light squeeze. “I am more at peace. I haven’t completed the mission I had first set out to do.”

“And that mission was?”

“I had been hoping to discover a lot more about the dangerous character that is LeBlanc. But I am satisfied with this encounter. In this timeline, at least.”

Evaine did not further question the agent and instead went in for a kiss. Gently brushing her lips on the agent’s cheek, she pulled back as quickly as she had leaned in, a cryptic smile illuminating her features.

“Goodbye Caitlyn. Have a safe travel back.”


	2. Aftercare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LeBlanc can actually be quite caring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff this chapter. I also added my take on Emilia and Evaine's relationship.

The Deceiver sighed loudly as she trudged down the Noxian wing, ignoring all that crossed paths with her. She was in no mood to socialise. Summoners’ pastime was aberrant. LeBlanc never understood how watching two teams make war in a man-made arena was in any way entertaining. It was aggravating at best. Champions were only animals dancing for the amusement of others, bearing their fangs and claws, hacking at their own in a pathetic attempt of sportsmanship and peace. The Institute’s “peace” was its biggest ambition. Runeterra’s nations had never known peace.

Arriving at her cabin, the Matron ignored the keyhole and instead unlocked the door with a touch, the purple sigil glowing before fading back into the wood. Her head throbbed. She needed rest. Pushing the door open, LeBlanc paused in the doorway.

Her hand gripped tightly at her staff, a burst of magic flaring to life in her free hand. Stepping in, her eyes swept the place. Carefully. The sound of fabric rustling against the sofa turned her attention to the right. The mage distorted a safe distance in that direction and held her hand up in the dark. Seeing the person sprawled out on the sofa, the mage closed her hand and leaned her staff against the wall.

Walking over, she gently let herself fall, seating herself comfortably next to her companion. Caitlyn stirred and cracked an eye open.

“How did you get in here? I don’t remember giving you a key.”

The Sheriff stared at LeBlanc for a moment before closing her eyes again, rolling over and pulling at the jacket to cover up her shoulders.

“You might want to upgrade your locks.” She replied faintly.

The mage narrowed her eyes. A painted nail tapped against her knee in a gentle rhythm. She had wished for some time alone. She was in no mood to entertain. But nevertheless decided to humour the Sheriff. For a short while. With a snap of her fingers, the lights came to life, bathing the room in a comfortable atmosphere.

“I never would have imagined that the Sheriff of Piltover was one for trespassing on private property. Nor that she would collapse on my sofa.”

Caitlyn still didn’t turn to face the Deceiver. Nor did she answer. LeBlanc’s patience was reaching its limit.

“I apologise.” An answer eventually came. It was whispered in an earnest voice. “It was not my intention to break in. I thought that you would be in your quarters.”

“You wanted to see me?” An eyebrow raised.

Caitlyn nodded and finally sat up. Painfully. Her hands still gripped onto her jacket and for the first time since the beginning of their conversation, Evaine realised that the sniper was pale. That only further furrowed her brows.

“You’re hurt.”

“Well yes,” Caitlyn answered sheepishly, “the Summoners were tending to much more serious injuries. I simply could not bother them for a few scratches.”

At this point, the Matron’s patience had expired. She gripped the jacket and gave a violent tug. As soon as the coat fell, her anger was gone. Nasty bruises covered Caitlyn’s bare shoulders, her dress ripping in several places. Cupping her cheeks, LeBlanc turned Caitlyn’s face to hers. Her lips were split and an eye was swollen, already turning a dark blue. Evaine blinked.

“What happened to you.”

“I, uh, hit a tree.”

The Deceiver was not amused. Caitlyn tried again.

“I ran into Maokai. A few times.”

“It seems more serious than just running into him.”

“He might have taken a few swings at me.”

“The Enforcer’s humour is rubbing off on you. “

“I was told that I was too uptight.”

LeBlanc rolled her eyes and against her better judgement, told Caitlyn to sit still.

So much for that rest.

She rose from the sofa and went to rummage through her cupboards, hoping that she still had a first-aid kit. And praying that it was still suitably furnished. The Matron rarely used its content and had bought the box out of sheer spite. The rare injuries she sustained would be sealed up and healed with magic. She needn’t use anything else.

However, she wasn’t taking any chances with the Sheriff. Magic was known to be less effective on non-mages.

Finally finding said box, she opened it and examined its content. Satisfied that it would do the job just fine, she sauntered back over to the couch, where Caitlyn had been waiting patiently. She had folded the coat beside her and sat as still as it was humanly possible.

“Relax. Why so tense?”

“I do feel a bit guilty for breaking in.”

LeBlanc shrugged and reclaimed her seat. Grabbing hold of the pliers, the mage started pulling out the splinters embedded in bruised skin. With surgical precision and a gentle hand, the fragments of wood came out one after the other before being discarded in the ashtray. Checking that there were no remains, LeBlanc then retrieved the cloth from the box, followed by a bottle of disinfectant. Taking the top off, she put the cloth to it and dipped the bottle. She then directly applied the fabric over the open wounds and dabbed the surrounding skin. Caitlyn grew stiff and let out a grunt.

“These would have got infected. You should have waited your turn.”

“They were still treating the seriously injured. I got out rather unscathed.”

Caitlyn hissed as LeBlanc pressed the cloth down on her skin. Evaine ignored her and switched shoulder.

“How fortunate.”

“The Summoners were still taking care of Vi when I left.”

“Was your officer chopped up.”

“I’d rather not say.”

LeBlanc gave another shrug and rose off the sofa. Cupping her face once more, Evaine tilted it upwards. Eyes scanned the Sheriff’s face and imperceptibly softened when they dived into deep blue.

‘You’re turning soft, Dear Evaine.’

‘Quiet.’

‘Do you love her? Is she dear to you? Were you not the one who once said that you would lead the Rose with an iron grip?’

‘I am.’

‘No weaknesses. Rip this thorn from your side.’

Her head throbbed and no matter how hard she screwed her eyes shut, the pain would not subside. A soft touch caught her.

“Evaine. Are you okay?” Caitlyn asked gently..

All was still before she dropped her hands to her sides again. Evaine realised that she had been holding her breath. Opening her mouth, she exhaled and reached out to Caitlyn. Tentatively, she brushed a soft cheek with the tip of her fingers. Caitlyn leaned into the touch, her eyes still searching for the Deceiver’s. And before she could say anything, LeBlanc retracted her hand and lowered herself instead, her knees sinking on either side of the Sheriff’s. Straddling her, she bent over so that their lips were almost touching. The other woman turned away and said nothing.

“Your lips.”

“My lips.” Caitlyn repeated, hoping that that hadn't come out as a squeak.

LeBlanc paused and then smirked.

“Nothing I can do. Unless you want a kiss to make them better?”

Caitlyn put her hand on LeBlanc’s shoulder and gave a small nudge.

“I will be fine, thank you.”

“Perfect. Now close your eyes and be still.”

Caitlyn obliged and closed her eyes. Gently, LeBlanc ran her hand over the bruise that stained porcelain skin. The Sheriff recoiled slightly but LeBlanc was keeping her head still. With upmost care, she traced the wound and followed it down to the jaw. Before long, the bruise started to fade, the ruined skin breaking off as if it were sand. And then they were still.

Evaine hand rested against Caitlyn’s cheek as she drew an image of the woman before her. How long would they be able to continue? A year? A month? The Matron couldn’t say. The situation was complicated. She felt attraction for a woman so fundamentally different. She cared for someone that could destroy her and all that she had worked for, in a single moment. Soft voices whispered alluring ends. They spoke of the Sheriff’s downfall. Of her demise. Of how a hindrance would be permanently erased. Forgotten.

Grip turned into claws and circled Caitlyn’s neck. A swift end.

And then Caitlyn opened her eyes. This time, it was Evaine’s turn to recoil. She dropped both of her hands on Caitlyn’s shoulder, her head following suit. She was not able to face that honesty. Not right now. She felt the other woman shift. And place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Everything will work out,” she said with assurance.

The Deceiver could just laugh at her confidence. Deceiver indeed. Emotion and worry was not something she did. Weakness was not something she showed. Deceive those around her. Deceive them. Into thinking that you are perfection.

“Indeed. Now darling, you should bathe. I shall find you something suitable to wear.”

Caitlyn nodded and rose from the sofa. With weak knees she limped to the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, the Sheriff leaned against it and sucked in a breath, her legs shaky for another reason all-together. Evaine was as frightening as she was mysterious. Her hand moved up to her throat and she felt herself gag. Balling her other hand into a fist, she pushed against the door to regain her upright posture.

Sliding the ruined dress off her shoulders, she went the remaining distance to the tub. Opening the tap, she let water flow through her fingers until she was satisfied. Flipping her hair over a still-bruised shoulder, the woman then gathered and captured it in a tight bun sitting on her head.

Caitlyn looked at her reflection and sniffed in disdain. Why should she be surprised? She very well knew what she had been getting into when she had so adamantly chased LeBlanc. Her search for answers and her curiosity had pointed her in the Deceiver’s direction. On many occasions could she have given up. But the Sheriff had kept on going until she had achieved what she desired. Maybe even more. The fact that she could now consider their relationship as more than associates baffled her. The Sheriff had wished for them to reach an understanding. At best.

Discarding the last of her clothes, she gingerly stepped into the bath, warmth both soothing and burning her injuries. Sighing against the pain, Caitlyn was still pensive.

Had she really been caught off-guard by LeBlanc’s earlier outburst? The mage did seem out of form. Exhausted, even. Much more than she would let on. For a moment, she even seemed vulnerable. The detective shook her head and sank deeper into the water. Shadow still shrouded LeBlanc in mystery. And Caitlyn knew it was impossible to completely solve the enigma that was LeBlanc. She didn’t count on it. But she nevertheless would give it her damn best shot.

“You seem lost in thought.”

Caitlyn had no time to react, arms circling her shoulders, closing the distance between the two. Evaine settled in to the tub, her legs going on either side of the Sheriff. Fully registering the situation at last, Caitlyn would have leaped a good few meters if LeBlanc had not had her arms around her. In a jumble of incoherent sounds, she tried to turn around, arms however locking her in place.

“Don’t turn around Honey. You don’t want to put a strain on that tattered body of yours,” LeBlanc purred in her ear.

“LeBlanc,” Caitlyn said in a strangled voice.

“I thought I would help you with your with your wash.”

“I can very much handle myself, thank you.”

The Sheriff regretted her usual composure.

“Is my presence unwanted? I can always leave you to your own business.”

“Yes, I mean no… I…” Caitlyn paused and before long, let out a defeated sound. Why did things always end up like they did.

“What was that?”

“Go on.”

The answer came slowly and hesitantly. But it was a "yes" in the end. And it put a smirk on her face. LeBlanc reached for the bun and undid the knot of hair, letting it fall over bruised shoulders. Brushing her fingers through it, she was surprised when she heard a yelp. Usually maintaining a pristine image, it was very unlike the Sheriff to be messy. Finger still intertwined with savage locks, Evaine’s eyebrows furrowed as they continued their grooming. Before long, a small branch was pulled out of Caitlyn’s hair. The mage held it up for a moment before setting it aside.

Reaching for a brush, she set out on combing beautiful midnight tresses. Revelling in the sheer length, LeBlanc handled the task with delicacy and great care. With a repeated movement, she straightened tangled hair, extracting small pieces of wood along the way. Before long, Caitlyn had started leaning into LeBlanc. Blue eyes fluttered shut in bliss. The comfortable warmth and the much-needed care made her lightheaded. A gentle nudge surprised the Sheriff back into a sitting position.

Satisfied with the result, the brush was discarded for a bottle of soap. A sigh of pleasure escaped the Sheriff’s lips, soft hands gliding over her skin. Sinking further into the water, she closed her eyes and let the Matron take care of her.

“Don’t get too relaxed now.”

Caitlyn was pulled from her reverie when arms dipped under her own, hands drawing circles across her stomach, slowly drawing upwards. Caitlyn jumped and caught the hands in mid-act.

“I can take it from here, thank you.”

A cackle was the only response she got. Putting some space between them, the mage leaned back in the tub and made herself comfortable, allowing her eyes to drift shut.

Water splashed over her face, but she ignored it. A sheepish voice came from somewhere above her.

“Sorry.”

LeBlanc waved a hand and motioned for her companion to continue. She had wished for a lie-down. This was close enough.

* * *

“We agreed on not doing questions.”

Caitlyn paused her hair drying and stared at LeBlanc’s back. Going through her closet, the Deceiver was in search of something to wear.

“I know.”

“Then no questions. I am adamen-“

“Why Emilia?”

LeBlanc abandoned her quest and turned on her heel, eyes narrowing at Caitlyn.

“What about Emilia?” She had damn-well known that it was impossible to keep Emilia from Caitlyn. No matter how hard she would try. Although she avoided the subject for the better part of their time together, the moment had probably come to reveal the Matron.

Only very few knew of Emilia. And what she was. Fewer were those that carried the knowledge without being part of the Black Rose. What use was there in telling the Detective?

‘Ah. Another step into the grave.’

“Caitlyn. You promised.”

The Sheriff hesitated.

“I know I did… but…”

“But you are too curious,” LeBlanc sighed and went over to seat herself beside Caitlyn. She wrapped herself in the blanket that Caitlyn was using and scooted closer to her partner. A feeling of fondness washed over her, and she couldn’t help that smile pulling at her lips. Their relationship was improbable. It was ludicrous and much out of character. Evaine was much aware of that.

"You naughty girl." There was a slight pause, Evaine wondering how to best broach the subject. Eventually she shrugged, deciding that there was no best way to start her story. "You know who LeBlanc is I presume."

"A name. A title. Passed down through generations."

"Call it what you must. But yes. LeBlanc is a form of immortality. Each new Matron inherits the memories and powers of their predecessor. From generation to generation. LeBlanc is a well of knowledge and magic. One unlike any other. I suppose it should be a great honour to receive the mantle."

Evaine paused as if to check that Caitlyn was still attentive. She was. Her eyes were solely focused on her and she made sure to not lose a single piece of information. LeBlanc scoffed. And continued her tale.

"Emilia was my mentor. She was known to be one of the greatest Matrons to have led the Black Rose. Her accomplishments were an endless list that reached no end. And so, I decided that inheriting both the names Emilia and LeBlanc would bring a certain... Assurance to my future acolytes."

"The members of the Black Rose."

Evaine bowed her head.

"Indeed. The transition from the last Matron had to be flawless. No-one had to know that Emilia had already chosen her successor. And so it was done. I inherited the name and the mantle in the quietest and most discreet of ceremonies. The passing was made in secret. And here I am."

"And here you are." Caitlyn repeated the words in a whisper and reached out to put a hand on Evaine's forearm.

"You inherit a name. You inherit a nation. The Black Rose becomes yours to rule. That is not to say that I have complete freedom over my will. Emilia... LeBlanc is present as ever. Right here." A manicured finger came to tap at the side of her head.

"I have inherited the whims of the previous LeBlanc. But Emilia is particularly loud. On some days, I can barely hear myself think."

The conversation paused and Caitlyn had that expression. The one she had when she was absorbing and carefully organising a great amount of information. Because believe it or not, she did have an expression for that. It was one of the many quirks that LeBlanc had observed over the past few months.

"Were you someone else before you became LeBlanc?" She finally asked. Her eyes were bright. She was hunting for information. And just like she had been for the past hours, LeBlanc humoured her.

"Oh yes. Very much so. Evaine was different in every aspect. She hardly believed that she would one day be at the head of one of Noxus' most powerful organisations."

"You speak of her as if she were a different person."

"That's because she is. Evaine died when LeBlanc chose her as a successor. Her name vanished and everything that she was was wiped clean."

"I have heard some call you Evaine."

"As irritating as it might be, yes they do. I mentioned that the ceremony to become LeBlanc had taken place in secret. There were however followers that had attended. That knew of the passing."

"And Elise is one of them."

"That woman always has been up in my business. But yes. And she and Vladimir still insist on calling me Evaine. The Spider Queen finds too many discrepencies with the previous Matron to consider us as one and the same person. She therefore refuses to call me anything else but Evaine."

"Are you not sad?"

"Sad?"

"Of losing your name and identity."

LeBlanc leaned back into the sofa. Her hand reached out to Caitlyn's as she best searched for an answer.

"I am not sad. The person that was Evaine is irrelevant. Her past, her future, her ambitions have all been wiped. In order to leave LeBlanc with a perfect vessel. There will be imperfections. Instances when LeBlanc's hold is weaker. And that is when Evaine shines through."

Her voice trailed off. Storytime was over and Caitlyn knew that she would get nothing more from the Deceiver tonight. She should consider herself lucky that Evaine had been in the mood for sharing. It was in instances like these that she truly felt like she was getting somewhere with her. That although not much had changed on the surface, distances had already been covered by the two women. And that made her happy. More happy than she thought it would.

She felt the Matron lean on her. And somehow, nothing at that moment seemed wrong. Caitlyn shifted and made herself comfortable.

'LeBlanc?"

The woman gave a tired hum.

"I am truly glad that I got to meet Evaine."

The mage scoffed and said nothing more.

And for this time only, Caitlyn decided that she would happily sleep on the sofa.


	3. Detectives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not write regularly. But when I do, I find myself enjoying it immensely.  
> Thank you to Rosymiz for Beta reading this.
> 
> Dedicated to my partner in crime.

Caitlyn slammed the door behind her and kicked off her boots, forgetting them before long. Moving through to the living room, she dropped her bag on the sofa and made a beeline for the kitchen, her lips pursed in a tight line.

Fumbling for the kettle, she finally managed to put it on the stove. Her brows furrowed further as she leaned back. What a terrible day.

First, she had missed her bus. Then, the coffee machine broke. Before long, a dead body had popped up. And the last straw was the partnership. 

_ The partnership _ .

Caitlyn was fuming. She was very peculiar about the partners she was to work with. They had to be focused. They had to be efficient. And the most important of all,  _ they had to not be in her way _ . And her new partner was none of all that. The woman was playful, flirty, and downright a pain. If she were to stay polite, she would say that their personalities just didn’t mesh. If she were to be less polite, then she would say that she liked the woman as much as she liked her broken coffee machine.

The kettle whistled, and she opened a cupboard to fetch her favourite mug. She poured herself a cup of tea and pulled out one of the kitchen chairs. Twirling a strand of hair around her finger, she took a sip, absentmindedly glancing over to the pile of papers that were starting to accumulate on the edge of the table. 

Jayce had told her numerous times that it looked messy and improper when people dropped by. She had to agree and had enough manners to not put a boot to his back side. But she was not cordial enough to not snap at him. Jayce was a good friend. As good as they came. But his overgrown ego and his uncanny ability to get on her nerves were too much sometimes. 

Maybe she was just touchy. Her grip tightened as she felt her mood take a dip again.

Laying the cup down, she had to remind herself that the next few weeks would be laced with irritation. Her new partner would make sure of that. Another sigh escaped her lips, this time taking her to rummage through the belongings that had been left on the sofa. She finally found the case file after concluding that she really should be emptying her bag more often. The bag was pushed aside as she sat herself in its place. Fake glasses removed, she started reading up on who she was going to be dealing with.

Her name was Evaine LeBlanc. She was a private investigator and had a reputation that could match her own. Whereas Caitlyn played by the rules, LeBlanc seemed to have her own ways of doing things. Trickery, manipulation, deceit. With near to 100% success in closed cases, LeBlanc was valuable. And close to none questioned her methods or authority.

Her gaze lingered on the picture. She was met with a knowing grin and mischievous eyes. Caitlyn had to admit that LeBlanc had a pretty face. The woman probably knew it too, which was all the more infuriating.

She closed the case file on that face and threw it on the table. Sinking further into the sofa, she pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a growing headache. Usually an advocate for a healthy and harmonious partnership, she could only see this one being a big mess. The two detectives could not get along. They were much too different.

Getting to her feet, she let down her hair and went to run her bath.

* * *

As improbable as it seemed, the next morning was even worse. After a torturous night, she rose before her alarm and tried going about her daily routine. The wait for the bus only dampened her mood, and the coffee machine still hadn’t been fixed when she got to the office. Already fuming, Caitlyn excused herself—only because her rank allowed these luxuries—and went out the door of her office, crossing the street to the local coffee shop. After having her name called wrong, she left the change and picked up the cup, heading back into the building. For her sanity and her partners’, she made no attempt at small talk and went to lock herself in her private study.

Caitlyn closed the door behind her and sighed heavily as she hung her hat up, then shrugging her coat off without spilling her cup. Freed of her outdoor wear, she could finally make herself comfortable and start working the case. About to do just that, she turned to her desk.

And recoiled in surprise. 

Back slamming against the door, the coffee slipped from her hand and fell to the floor. Caitlyn’s eyes were wide with surprise at the other woman sitting on her desk. Said woman had an eyebrow cocked. Neither moved until Caitlyn lowered her eyes to the floor. Her coffee was long gone.

“And good morning to you. Please don’t rush. I can wait all day.”

Eyes darted back up from her coffee to the other woman. LeBlanc had not moved a finger. And wouldn’t until Caitlyn had cleaned up the mess. Silent minutes dragged on before Caitlyn rose from the floor, discarding the paper towels in a nearby bin. Ironing creases out with her hand, she finally met orange eyes.

Were those contact lenses? She sniffed but made no attempt in starting the conversation. Eventually, LeBlanc’s smile dropped, and she rose from the desk, holding out her hand.

“Your reputation precedes you. You really are as uptight and unforgiving as people say. Nevertheless, it is a pleasure to meet you, Caitlyn. As I am sure you have heard, I am Evaine Leblanc and your partner for this upcoming case.”

Staring at the hand with contempt, Caitlyn debated on whether to take it or not. Very slowly, she extended her own and clasped the petite hand.

“Are we on first name bases already?”

“We aren’t?” LeBlanc asked, acting surprised, withdrawing her hand before the shake became too awkward. Not that she seemed to mind. “It would definitely make things easier.”

“Ferros. That is what my colleagues call me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Silence settled between the two once more. Eventually, LeBlanc shrugged and merely went to sit on the desk again. Waiting there, she poised herself and remained as still as she had been when Caitlyn had first entered the office. Frustration eventually pushed Caitlyn to ask her new partner how she had got into her office and why she had been and still was sitting on her desk. LeBlanc’s eyes lit up with mischief as she opened her mouth.

“On a second thought,” interrupted Caitlyn before she heard the answer, “I care little for your explanations. Please get off my desk. I will fetch you a chair and we can start work.”

“All work and no play, I see.”

“And it will be kept that way,” she said in a stern voice before heading out her office door.

* * *

The next few days were uneventful to say the least. The rival companies had been putting all their effort in a case that was confusing at best.  No clues. No suspects. No leads. The culprit had made a clean getaway, and some were wondering if he had even existed in the first place. The mysterious killer was unnerving the city, the news making a good job at giving him an inaccurate backstory and identity.

The murder was all anyone ever talked about these days. Giving as much attention to this mysterious killer was dangerous for sure. Rumours were, however, not in Caitlyn’s jurisdiction. She’d like to think that this was her city, but reality couldn’t be further than expectations.

Crime, corruption, and murder had been plaguing Piltover for as long as she could remember. And she was the woman that was going to put a stop to it.

Or at least one of them.

Despite a rocky start, the improvised partnership—that put the most efficient person of each company at the head of the investigation—was getting better. Before long, Caitlyn had gotten used to LeBlanc’s constant poking around. Although not completely wrong on her first impressions, she had to admit that LeBlanc was much easier to be with compared to what she had initially dreaded.

Caitlyn now found that she could actually spend most of her days in the other woman’s presence. Her already moderately sized office had been turned into a small box, as piles of open case files were strewn about each available surface. LeBlanc’s chair went from being on the opposite side of the desk to sitting directly next to Caitlyn’s, making the communication easier for the both of them. This newfound proximity should have disturbed her. It had at first. But long hours cooped up in an office together worked wonders. It was difficult to admit, but Caitlyn had started warming to the other woman. Evaine LeBlanc had a wicked sense of humour and an answer to everything. She had a way with words.

 And that made her undeniably attractive.

* * *

Evaine rose from her vanity table after giving a pass on today’s makeup. She walked out the door to her bedroom and picked up the essentials for her day.

Everything seemed in order. As expected. The front door clicked shut behind her and she went to hail a cab, giving the address her new destination before going silent, bringing any potential conversation to a close. The commute was done without a word, and she was at the office before long. She paid her driver and walked out of the car, flipping her long coat behind her. A quick look to her watch assured her that she was on time, heels clicking against the pavement as she waited to cross streets.

Caitlyn was halfway up the stairs when Evaine called out to her. The former turned around and gave something that might be a smile. Or maybe it was a frown. Either way, Evaine climbed the stairs and gave her partner a grin as she passed by.

The two women levelled when they reached the door to Caitlyn’s office.

“You look terrible.”

“No more than I usually do,” she mumbled fishing for the keys.

“Tough night?”

“A lot on my mind.”

They followed the opening door and dropped their bags in a corner of the room, forgotten before long. Shrugging off her coat, Evaine looked at the extended hand and graciously handed over her outdoor wear. Hanging it over her own, Caitlyn let out the big sigh she had been holding in all that time. Orange eyes narrowed with appreciation as Caitlyn carried on the small talk. She seemed to be in an especially talkative mood.

"This case is tiresome. I wish to move on."

"Is that a complaint that I hear from the very professional Caitlyn Ferros?" She mimicked a surprised expression, leaning in.

Caitlyn allowed herself a scoff. "Each person has their forte. And I admit that despite my many cases spent inside, I am more than itching to be called out on the field." Her expression soured as she let herself fall on her chair. "Not that I ever get the opportunity anymore. Sometimes, I find myself missing those rookie days of being outside and meddling where I shouldn't be."

Evaine followed suit and circled Caitlyn's desk. She however perched herself on it, crossing a slender leg over the other. "I hear nostalgia. It doesn't suit you."

"Am I not allowed to reminisce?"

"I hate for the mood to be dampened. A coffee sounds much nicer."

"You may be right. Can I get you something?"

"Is that your hospitality getting better?"

Caitlyn's lips twitched upwards. "It might worsen if you keep mocking me."

"Why, I would never." A hand folded to her chest as Evaine acted as offended as it was possible without being ridiculous.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes and walked out her office, smiling.

* * *

Stretching her hands above her head, Evaine pushed away from the open case files and checked her watch. "Ferros dear, I respect your dedication, but I think that a break is in order."

Only a half-hearted hum was given, accompanied by the bristling of paper. Waiting a few more minutes without moving, Evaine could see that the other woman was only half there. "Your stuffy office is getting to me."

Another hum.

An eyebrow cocked. Sauntering back to where she had been sitting, Evaine peered down, her face now uncomfortably close to Caitlyn's. The lack of reaction pushed her close.

"I rather fancy a late lunch. For two."

The words were breathed into Caitlyn’s ear, finally snapping her out of her reverie. Caitlyn recoiled against her chair in surprise. She wasn't used to the proximity. And Evaine was pretty damn close right now. Finally tearing her face from the papers, she looked into orange eyes and held them for a moment before turning away.

"It's a date, then," Evaine announced.

The long-haired woman opened her mouth to protest but was met with a playful expression. And instead of going against her, she realised that picking a fight was probably what Evaine wanted. Deciding that she wasn't too bothered with meaningless banter, and that food did sound nice right about now, Caitlyn instead settled on rolling her eyes and giving a wave of her hand in dismissal.

"Lunch it is."

Evaine’s eyes lit up, satisfied by the outcome. Straightening herself, she left Caitlyn's personal space and walked off to slide her coat on.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Caitlyn followed suit, dressing against the cold outdoor weather. A hand reached for her hat but was instead met with nothing. She could have sworn that it was there a moment ago. Her eyebrows knit together when she saw it on the other woman. At this point, Caitlyn was much too keen on getting away from the case and much less inclined on lingering about. "I much prefer you without the hat."

"I find it rather difficult to detect the sarcasm."

"That is because I am being quite serious. Now please hand it over."

There was not much to be said. Except that Evaine was delighted by the compliment. Reaching up, Evaine returned it to its rightful owner, stepping in as she adjusted it on her co-worker. Caitlyn turned away for the second time and gave a light cough.

"Shall we go then?"

The both of them stepped outside and reviewed their options. They were rather slim at that time of day, but the two finally agreed on a small burger place. Walking down the street from the office, Evaine pulled her jacket close, regretting the warm and sunny days she was so fond of. Maybe Caitlyn would have been more talkative then.

Crossing pavements led them to a small square. It was cute but didn't have anything more than a few shops and that one burger restaurant. Pushing the door to the establishment open, the two detectives settled at a small table in the corner. The place was relatively quiet and their orders quickly taken. Before long, they were left alone again with no more of a conversation they had when they had left the office. Caitlyn seemed uncomfortable under Evaine's scrutiny.

An ace detective that wasn't too bothered with socialising.

Noted.

"Are these usually how they play out?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your dates. I do hope for the poor man that you aren't as drawl as you are now. Look alive, darling. Or I’ll have to leave a review for a bad date.."

Caitlyn was quiet for a moment while she recollected herself. Once out of the office, she did seem less hung up on formalities. Maybe she was the sort of person that changed completely depending on her environment. Or maybe it was fatigue.

"Is everything you say to be taken literally?" she finally said.

"Shouldn't it? Why beat around the bush with you when I know that you don't listen to half of what I say?"

"Or disbelieve half of what you say. I have heard of your tricks and games and manipulation to get what you want. Although I cannot say that I personally agree with that attitude, I can now see that it yields... results."

"My, my. It seems like you are quite informed." Evaine put her hand on the table and leaned in, as if they were sharing the most intimate of secrets. Caitlyn did not withdraw and met with those orange eyes that she had always found so strange. They were unusually beautiful. "Tell me, Caitlyn, what else have you heard about me?"

"Your methods are cold and calculating. And you always end up getting what you want, despite being so demanding. You have a strong resolve. And an uncanny attention to detail for one that is always looking at the big picture."

"You have me all figured out."

"But most of all," Caitlyn continued with a growing smirk on her face, "most of all, you are a liar that cannot be trusted."

A burst of laughter erupted in the small restaurant, making a few heads turn. And it was as quick to die down as it had started. Evaine leaned back in her chair her eyes still narrowed in amusement. Rarely did she allow herself the luxury to laugh. She hadn't expected for Caitlyn to be so forward.

"It is said that you are all work and no play. Well, I can certainly say that there is a certain charm to you. Maybe buried under all that paperwork and stuffy office." She was almost purring.

Caitlyn shrugged her shoulders and settled her chin on intertwined fingers.

"Perhaps. You may have to start digging."

They exchanged smiles laced with complicity, savouring their shared moment of respite. When the food arrived, they exchanged more meaningless banter until plates were empty. Caitlyn waited on Evaine to finish her glass of wine before calling the check over. She settled the tab for two and both women rose in unison. They wordlessly filed out of the room until they were outside again. Evaine turned to Caitlyn. Maybe she was going to mention the tab. Maybe she was going to say something else altogether.

But instead of words, Evaine stepped in, slid her hand to the nap of Caitlyn’s neck and brushed her lips on flushed cheeks.

Eyes widening, Caitlyn recoiled only when LeBlanc let her. Lost for words, she could only wait for Evaine to say, "That was the most enjoyable date I've had in a long time. Let's make it dinner next time."

* * *

As luck would have it, they ended up not having their dinner together.

After weeks on the case without much of a breakthrough, it seemed that luck finally decided on lending them a helping hand. A whim made the two detectives go back to the crime scene despite nothing having been found the previous attempts. The trail should have gone cold as the murder had taken place a month prior to their renewed search. After sweeping the place without much success, the two exited the abandoned warehouse and were ready to call it quits, when light caught on an object that had been buried in the rubble. Upon further inspection, it was the murder weapon.

Everything that followed couldn't have been easier. And a few days later, the two companies could finally announce that their partnership would be coming to an end. The criminal had been apprehended and was waiting on his sentence in court. Justice prevailed. As always.

In order to celebrate their victory, a farewell party had been announced. Although it was written nowhere, attendance was mandatory to not upset the steady relationship that had been built over the past month.

Eyeing her watch, Evaine was satisfied. She would arrive just the right amount of fashionably late. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she looked out the cab window and watched the city go by. Lost in thought, she arrived at the celebration hall in no time.

Checking her makeup one last time, she pocketed the small mirror before opening the taxi door. The wind hit her, and she hurried inside as to not get cold. Dropping her belongings off at the front counter, Evaine finally went to the reception, with as much of an unapologetic stride as it was possible.

She stopped only to take two Champagne coupes from a waiter before eyeing the assembly. Members of the two companies mingled together, and a pleasant, if not slightly loud, chatter filled the room. Everyone seemed occupied and in deep conversation. With a short hum, Evaine strolled over to a couple.

Clearing her throat, the conversation paused. "I must apologise, dear sir, but I'm afraid I'll be taking her off of your hands." With that, she promptly inserted herself between the two.

The man opened his mouth in protest but gave up and turned on his heels, only glaring over his shoulder when he was already a few steps away.

Smiling, Evaine offered the glass of Champagne to her companion for the evening.

"I cannot believe you just did that," started Caitlyn, nevertheless accepting the coupe.

"I recognised him as being from your company. He'll get another opportunity to horribly flirt with you in the future."

Scoffing but not denying the claim, Caitlyn leaned closer. "He has been trying for months now. And he seems rather... dense when it comes to taking a hint."

"Or two," continued Evaine as she raised her glass. Caitlyn brought hers to it as the two women toasted to an uninspired toast.

Bringing the glass to her lips, Caitlyn took a sip and hummed appreciatively. Not too keen on anything else than the occasional glass of whiskey in the evening, indulging in a glass or two of nice Champagne couldn't hurt.

Looking over to her companion, Caitlyn had to admit that her partner cleaned up well. The dark dress she wore had a generous neckline and hugged all the right places. Despite the amount of skin showing, Evaine was as elegant as she had ever been. She was glowing, and her demeanor and confidence only added to the woman's charm.

Before their eyes could meet, Caitlyn averted her attention elsewhere. "This is a very nice party."

"I suppose," Evaine hummed. "I do find myself allergic to men in suits. I find yours much more agreeable."

A few seconds had paled cheeks covered with a light blush. And then it was gone.

"I seldom do dresses." A cough.

Deciding that she was already having immense fun, Evaine leaned in and looped her arm with Caitlyn's. "I must admit that my garderobe is rather well supplied. Maybe you could come over and try one on."

The far wall suddenly seemed very interesting to Caitlyn.

"They would be ill-fitted. I think that they are made for people like you."

"People like me?" Evaine batted her eyelashes.

A month of always being around her had taught Caitlyn signs of when she was being played.

And she was being played.

"People as elegant and lovely. You look wonderful tonight, LeBlanc."

"Oh please. Call me Evaine. We're not partners anymore, are we?"

A chuckle. "I suppose not. Let me rephrase. You look wonderful tonight, Evaine."

Orange eyes sparkling, Evaine started guiding Caitlyn away from their spot. Crossing the floor, the two kept only to themselves, acknowledging greetings only with signs of dismissal. They didn't seem too interested in anything else but their own company, and tonight, there was a mutual agreement that it would be spent together.

Heading out on the balcony, Caitlyn finally let Evaine go as she moved to the railing before resting her whole weight on them. Blue eyes observed the city that seemed to be ablaze beneath them, nothing else but fond admiration setting her features in a peaceful smile.

Walking up behind her, Evaine took her place beside her, instead turning her back to Piltover. Without a word, she observed her companion and gave a content hum, tilting her head backwards to finish the content of her glass. As it was put down, already forgotten, Evaine found it in herself to break the comfortable silence.

"You seem to hold this city in high esteem."

"I do. Although it is far from being perfect, this city has the potential of becoming a wonderful place."

"I find it quite admirable that you're able to place quite so much hope and trust in your birthplace."

Caitlyn turned to face the other. "If I recall correctly, you were not born in Piltover."

"Quite right. I hail from Noxus. An... interesting place. With an uncertain future to match. I might yet return to it. If I am not completely taken by this steady lifestyle. You people seem to have not a worry in the world."

"Apart for the murders and high crime rates."

"I feel that sometimes you will go against my word just because you can." Evaine rested her hand on the balustrade.

Caitlyn spotted it but remained still. "I might. I suppose that I have gotten used to our playful banter. It will be missed."

The hand inched closer before pausing. "It had its moment. But who's to say that we can't continue to see each other?"

Blue eyes flicked to Evaine. The other woman was now close. "How so?"

Evaine shifted and moved closer to Caitlyn. She opened her mouth but was interrupted by the song that erupted from the hall. Gentle at first, the music had gradually gained in intensity, before opening up the dancefloor.

Slightly miffed at having her spotlight taken from her, Evaine quickly bounced back, sliding her hand into Caitlyn's. Ignoring the sudden tense-up, Evaine announced, “I wish to dance."

It took a few moments for Caitlyn to fully register what had just been said as she blinked a few times before looking at her feet. "My dancing is rather on the poor side. I would hate it if I were to embarrass you."

A more insistent tug and a few steps towards the hall told her that she didn't have a say in the matter.

Positioning themselves on the dance floor, the two women stood face to face. Giving a short bow, Caitlyn extended her arm to her partner. When they linked up together, a silent permission was asked to place a hand on the other’s lower back. She did so when she was given an invitation. Caitlyn slid over smooth skin and she was suddenly very aware of Evaine's open back dress. Stepping in close to each other, the two women adjusted their stance. Evaine raised herself on tiptoes and remained still.

With a breath, they were off. Holding onto her partner but not too tightly so, Caitlyn led her around the dancefloor. She was concentrated on her steps and in not colliding with other people. Long strides brought the two together.

At some point during the song, Evaine’s body had pressed up against her own. And as one dance devolved into a few, Caitlyn realised that they were closer now than they had ever been. The proximity made her feel self-conscious. Evaine, however, was a beautiful dancer and had easily captivated the attention of many. She took the spotlight and shone brighter than anyone else in the room.

Spinning her, they were brought back together and on the spur of the moment, Caitlyn went and dipped her partner. Putting some space between them, she was careful to not drop her and brought her back up as quickly as she gone for the bold move. With their bodies close once more, Caitlyn heard the light chuckle.

The two women kept the pace up until the last notes were playing. And instead of going for a flashy finale, Caitlyn slowed their rhythm until the music reached its final notes. She froze their stance, both women coming to a halt until they were facing each other.

An applaud tore through the dancing hall, the two looking to their partner with a satisfied grin. Eyes locked with each other, neither woman dared to make the first move. And then, Evaine raised her hand to Caitlyn’s cheek, brushing aside a strand of hair. Her smile was, at that point, indecipherable, and Caitlyn felt her heart leap in her chest.

Opening her mouth, the two were interrupted by some of the noisiest members of their companies. Pulling away, the touch lingered before Evaine had the decency to address them. The group stayed locked in pleasantries for a while, though long enough for Caitlyn to start shifting her weight from foot to foot, before scattering. 

“Shall we also take our leave?” 

Caitlyn turned her attention to the smaller woman before giving her a short smile. Sweeping the room one last time, the two made their way out to retrieve their belongings. Burying her arms in her huge coat, she undid her hair, letting it fall past her shoulders. Bringing the collar up to cover half of her face, Caitlyn waited on Evaine. They exited the building together without a word. A few more silent moments passed them by as they walked around wordlessly. Until Evaine decided to break the silence. 

“Your lying is as poor as your coffee. You’re a wonderful dancer.” 

Caitlyn could feel her ears burning. She coughed. 

“It has been quite some time since I have danced. I am delighted that you enjoyed yourself.” 

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you.” Evaine chuckled. Pulling her sleeve back, she glanced at her watch. “I suppose that our time together is up. Now darling, do you have a way home? Or did you think you were going to walk home?” 

“I was going to hail a cab.” 

“Then let me.” 

Evaine gave a few quick swipes on her phone before tucking it away again. Slipping her hands in her pockets, she looked over the empty streets without a word. The silence was comfortable and both women seemed to enjoy their company. 

It was quite incredible how quickly bonds could be tied, mused Caitlyn. It had taken all but a month for the two to move past their differences and come to a certain understanding. They were not friends. But they were more than acquaintances. And Caitlyn found that she might miss the other woman. She would miss her meddling and her constant poking around. On second thought, she much preferred Evaine to her coffee machine, despite it having been fixed weeks ago. 

She tried to find something to say, something that wouldn’t make her look like a fool. But their ride arrived before she could. They both hopped in and gave their address. Caitlyn was getting off first. 

“I didn’t know you lived quite so close to my office.” 

“I suppose I do.” 

“Drop by once in a while, will you? Or I might come knocking on your front door.” 

“Would you?” 

“Come to you? I might.” 

Caitlyn scoffed, feeling her heart take a leap again. They exchanged small pleasantries, and before long, she was gathering her bags, getting ready to jump out. The night had been exhausting and she wanted nothing more but to take a nice shower and head to bed. 

The cab came to a halt, and she once again looked for something suitable to say. Eventually, she settled on something simple. “I’ll be seeing you around, Evaine.” She gave a smile and stepped out into the night air. 

The wind was blowing around her, and she hurriedly reached for the keys inside her pockets. She took a step before Evaine called out to her. Looking over her shoulder, she went back to the cab. Her hand on the roof, she leaned in slightly.

“Yes?” 

Evaine reached out to Caitlyn, wrapping her arms around her neck. Going in, she brought their lips together in a small peck before making the embrace last. And only when she let go did Caitlyn already miss her.

“Goodnight, Caitlyn. It was fun. All of it.”

 


End file.
